Property Of
by HELLO I'M
Summary: Warning: rape, NOT explicit. The Devil think Sam is his, but Dean's not going to let go of his brother that easily.


**A/N: WARNINGS: Erm...rape. Nothing explicit, but is male/male. **

**Disclaimer: Do not own Supernatural. **

**SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN**

Even before Samuel was born, he belonged to me.

He was _made_ for me.

He was fed my children's blood, he's a part of me. No matter how much Sam had tried to deny it, they were one and the same. Every choice Sam had ever made was only ever pulling him closer to his destiny, to the one true being who could understand. The _only_ one who could understand. And I knew, and he knew, that I could take away all the pain, all the hurt, all the sorrow. I could make it _right_. I could make him _whole_, make myself whole. That's why they needed eachother, if only Sam wasn't so stubborn. But that was what made Sam, _Sam_. Every quirk, every flaw, every perfection. Out of all of my brothers, I least favored the human kind. They were disgusting and flawed and I would never understand how Father loved them so. However, Sam was different. Sam was _mine_.

I tried to make him understand, to get him to see that his brother would betray him just as mine had done. Eventually Dean would leave him, turn away and never look back. He wanted to protect Sam from that, wanted to keep Sam from that same agonizing suffering he himself had experienced.

When Sam released me from my prison, I was expecting to take him right then and there. Not even through all the way and already I could feel his anguish. And I knew I could make it right. Make it better.

But then something happend, something that was not supposed to happen, happend.

There was another presence, the presence of Michael's chosen.

Sam's brother.

And then they were gone.

That was fine, Sam would be mine soon enough.

I knew instantly when Sam had parted ways with his brother. That was my moment to go to him, to make him my own. Sam was vulnerable, his brother had turned his back on him and the entire world was, literally, out to get him. Save for myself, of course.

Despite what Sam thought, I really was just looking out for him.

He was less than thrilled to see me, that was not unexpected. Sam was stubborn and I was all too aware of what the world thought of me. I was the Devil, so it was to be expected that Sam would stay as far away from me as possible. His attempts were futile, I knew. Sam would give in to me eventually, and then we would be one, we would finally be whole.

And then Dean came. _Again_.

That's when I hated Dean Winchester beyond measure. True, I hated him because he was Michael's vessel, but that was different. This time I hated him because he was taking Sam away from me. Sam was _mine_. He'd been _mine_ since before he was born. Dean couldn't possibly think that only because him and Sam were brothers that Sam was his, could he? If so, then he was _wrong_. I could understand Sam in ways Dean couldn't even comprehend! Sam. Belonged. To. _Me_.

Yet Dean continued to fight me, fight me for Sam. The worst part was, that he didn't even _know_ he was fighting me. It was sickening. It made him want to kill Dean Winchester is the worst possible way. But I couldn't, for a multitude of reasons including the fact that Dean _couldn't _die, but mostly because if I did that than Sam would never, _ever_ be mine. Officially.

It made him furious. Dean trying to take what belonged to him. Unfortunately, there was not much he could do about besides win favors and not kill Dean.

Sam would be his.

And Sam came to me in Detroit, his filthy brother in tow, and battled me for control. For his body. I thought it was kind of funny, Sam was defiant for every minute of it, but maybe this would make him see that this was just meant to be. That Sam was _his_.

When we were totally merged, I could feel it, I knew Sam could too, together we were complete. We were whole.

Yet Sam continued to fight him, no matter how good they felt together. He fought for _Dean_.

Dean had told him to keep fighting, so Sam kept fighting.

I wanted Sam to feel safe and comfortable and _wanted_ with me. Something Dean had recently made him feel like he didn't deserve. And yet Sam _still_ struggled against me.

I put Sam under. Forcing my grace to make Sam feel safe and warm.

I met Michael on the chosen field, we were preparing for battle when that damned Dean Winchester showed up with his team 'Free Will'.

An old drunkard and a fallen angel. How cute.

When they blasted Michael away I was suprisingly pleased, I would have Dean to myself.

I blew the little angel up into tiny pieces; it was shame, I was quite fond of him.

I felt Sam stir within me, he had sensed Castiel's death. The angel had treated him unfairly, yet Sam still mourned his friend. Even with my grace still working against him.

I snapped the elder man's neck, and I knew Sam had felt that. He whimpered the loss.

Then I went for Dean. I was going to punish him for ever trying to keep Sam away from me.

Dean, that inferior _whelp_, looked me straight in the eye and gave me a defiant _look_. A look that, from what I gathered from Sam, said: 'Sam will _never _be yours, Sam is _mine_.'

I punched him in the face.

Again and again and again. His face swollen and bleeding and black and blue.

I felt Sam screaming at me from inside, but Sam had to understand he was _mine_. Not Dean's, _mine_.

Dean, like he _knew_ Sam was with us, held on and told Sam it was okay. He was here, it was okay.

And Sam _listened_. And it only fueled his rage.

The light caught his eye, and the moment he looked up he was gone. Lost in Sam's memories of his brother. Every time he'd ever felt loved or safe, every time they'd shared smiles and drinks, every hug, every touch of affection, every look, every night they'd spent on the road, every morning the next day, every injury, every hunt.

Everything.

All with his brother right there next to him, not once leaving his side. Not once.

We fell into the pit. And I screamed.

Screamed because I knew.

With Sam locked with me, I was going to show him how wrong he was.

He should have chosen _me_.

I hurt him in every way imaginable.

I was marking him as mine.

_If_ Sam ever escaped the Cage, he would never be the same. He was marked, marked by the Devil himself. And the entire world would kow it. Sam belonged to me.

"_You're mine._" I hissed into his ear. Sam whimpered pathetically.

"_You're trapped here, Sam. The world's already forgotten about you. Dean left you here to _rot_!_" I snarled, harshly pulling his hair. I spoke softer, almost cooing, "_But you're still mine. You still belong to me. Forever, Sammy. Forever and ever._"

I smashed my lips to his and Sam didn't resist. He didn't have a choice really.

I stared into his eyes as I pounded into him. Over and over, harder and harder. Punishing, unforgiving. Repeating "_Mine_." Again and again. Marking him further.

Sam cried out, his pain making itself evident, I smirked at him. "_You're _my_ little bitch_."

I bit and scratched and ran my tongue all over his body. This was mine, _Sam_ was mine.

I never let him forget just who he belonged to.

"_What are you Sam_?" I had asked softly.

"_Your bitch_."

I had smiled. Right before I'd peeled his skin off, one inch at a time.

I never let him forget. Not up until the day Death walked through the front door.

I knew instantly who had sent him.

Dean -fucking- Winchester.

He might as well have sent a note that said: 'Sam will _never_ be yours. Sam will _always_ be mine.'

I screamed.

I screamed because I _knew_. I _knew_ Sam was never even mine to begin with.

Ever since he was born, he belonged to Dean. It was never a fair fight.

I screamed.


End file.
